Note: This blog is not a pretty, tied-up-with-a-bow kind of story. It is me being real and honest.
Josh and I began our journey with the World Race almost two years ago. From the beginning, I read as many blogs as I could, soaking up the words and stories from Racers already on the field. The stories that captured me the most were those from Racers working in Thailand. I read stories about slavery and redemption from the red light districts of Phuket and Chiang Mai-girls who were trapped in the sex trade were befriended by Racers, and given an alternative to the life that they were living.
I dreamed about doing this ministry, often the highlight of the Race for many. I could not wait to get back to Thailand, to the country that I had visited and fallen in love with two and a half years ago. I had seen the farangs (white people) walking around, hand in hand with the young Thai girls, and my heart broke for them. I was ready to give them my friendship and love, and to be a part of their stories of freedom and redemption.
Except…that's not how it would pan out for me and my team.
My team, and the girls on Team Mates, were chosen to do village ministry, which, if I'm being completely honest, I was never into. We spent a few days in Chiang Mai before heading to the village, and I wanted with everything in me to stay in the city. This was where I felt called, this was what I was passionate about. My team has done village ministry before. I wanted something different. I talked to leadership, and after prayer, they decided it would be best for me to stay with my team and go to the village.
Our days were spent trying to communicate with our host families about where to brush our teeth and what food we liked, eating rice for every meal, working in the rice and bean fields, and even shoveling pig poop. We had a little bit of relational ministry with kids in the afternoons, but my heart was not in it.
I didn't feel like myself at all, and I didn't like how negative I had become about the ministry. There were definitely things I liked about being in the village. We had bikes that we could ride around, a cheap banana roti stand, became good friends with our translator, and spent one night watching our house moms dance in a talent show. But, there was always an underlying unhappiness. I found myself counting down the days until we headed back to the city. I thought, once we get back, then I will be happy again.
Except now that we are back in the city, and with the teams that got to stay here and do bar ministry, I am more sad than ever.
I'm sad that I missed out on an opportunity to do bar ministry, and I'm sad that I didn't enjoy village ministry. I'm sad that it was time to say goodbye to Pe, our translator. When I hear stories from the other girls, I get jealous that I wasn't able to join them. Then, I get frustrated at myself for being jealous.
As I was sitting in the common area of the guest house this morning, thinking about all of this, my eyes were drawn to a string hanging from the ceiling, with some pretty, colorful skeleton leaves on it. As I looked at the leaves, my eyes focused on what was behind it, on the wall above the door. A print of an oil painting of Jesus. You know, the kind that is usually hung in a Sunday School room, and that I usually chuckle at (thinking, Jesus didn't look like that…) .
And I was reminded, as simple and elementary as it sounds, that is why I am here. Not for a certain kind of ministry, and definitely not to have my expectations met.
So, I'm still struggling a bit with contentment about this month, but I'm trying to focus on what matters: Jesus. He is why we came on the Race, so He can be revealed in us and through us. To bring light to the darkness and hope to the hopeless.
I knew I'd be sacrificing things like time with family, comforts of home, and material possessions, and that is easier when you get to replace them with ministry that you are passionate about, and things that make good, exciting stories. But, when they are replaced with ministry you are not excited about, and stories about hours of shoveling and spreading pig poop? That's when it becomes true sacrifice, I think.
And, I'm also trying to focus on the good news: Jesus can use us in ministry, whether we enjoy it our not. Although I may not feel like I was used to bring Kingdom, I did make a difference, I just may not actually be able to see the results of it. AND, Josh and I got the official word that we will be allowed to go on to Malaysia next month! We are still behind on fundraising, but, in a little over a week, almost $2,000 has come in!
So, although this month of ministry was definitely not what I was expecting or what I wanted, I know that we have the incredible opportunity for at least one more month of ministry. And what a blessing that is.
P.S. I didn't know it when I wrote this blog, but there is a part two in the works, about how God totally used us in the village. Get excited!
